Meg's Ficlets
by ThePriceIsMeg
Summary: Just a place to elaborate on the occasional headcanon or whatever strikes me. Nothing here will necessarily have any connection to my other stories. Ratings will vary.
1. Little Handprints

**Howdy folks, just Meg here jumping on the ficlet series bandwagon. Bear with me :P**

**(Sorry tumblr friends, you've already seen this first one, just getting it out of the way)**

* * *

"Just a liiiiittle bit…"

Leaning in the doorway, Maura watches her wife's strong hand steady their daughter's pudgy little one, pouring out a dot of blue paint. She's nervous for her kitchen table, despite the generous amount of newspaper laid out as a precaution.

"Look, like Mama," Jane says, pressing her own hand to the big white sheet of paper and carefully peeling it away, leaving behind a bright blue print of those long, slender fingers.

The child on her lap does the same, making a smaller, smudgy print and giggles happily when Jane praises her.

The blue runs out, and her little girl leans far forward to grasp the bottle of red paint. Which Jane never outright hides during projects like these, but usually puts way at the back where it's less likely to be chosen.

She hands it to her mother and outstretches her little palms, waiting for a dollop to be poured into them, and then makes more small red prints on the paper.

"More!" She pats her mother's wrist. Jane cooperates, dabbing red on her palm and making another big print at the bottom of the paper.

Then Jane's busy tearing off some paper towels, and Maura sees what's happening before she does. The little girl is poking her index finger in the middle of all her handprints.

"Whatcha doin'?" Jane notices.

"Look like Mama," she repeats happily, touching the faint dot already in the middle of one of Jane's prints.

For a few moments she makes loops on the paper, and when there isn't enough paint left on her finger and the trail goes dry, she finally notices her mother has been quiet. She twists around to look curiously up and backwards, apt to lose her balance and topple over, if it weren't for the guard rail of her mother's right arm.

The corners of her mouth deepen, and her little hazel eyes make the same shape her mother's do when she's trying to figure you out.

"Why sad Mama?" Before she can answer, a little hand closes carefully around a tendril of dark hair to pull her mother's face down lower. "No more sad," she instructs with a kiss to the cheek. Jane smiles. Instantly satisfied that she's fixed her mother, she turns back around to check on her paint.

"Thanks, baby." Jane kisses the back of her daughter's head.

Maura steps in, applauding their work and inviting her daughter to the kitchen sink to wash up, suspecting Jane could use a moment alone. Before the soap is even rinsed off, she's squirming to go play with the doll she just remembered, hopping off the stool and scampering to her room before Maura can even catch her to dry her hands.

"Are you alright?" Maura asks, coming back to the table with a wet paper towel and dabbing the flecks of paint out of her wife's hair.

"Yeah." Jane looks down at the colored handprints with dots in the middle, eyes still glassy and palms still red. "Is this the sweetest thing ever, or something I never wanna lay eyes on again?"

"It's the sweetest thing ever." Maura bends down for a moment, kissing her softly on the lips. "No more sad."

Jane smiles faintly, resting her head against her wife's side.


	2. Bloodstains

**This will be one of my old headcanons that someone asked me to fic. Sorry it took 912375 years.**

**(_Frost doesn't tell Jane that he's caught Maura more than once outside BPD scrubbing that spot on the pavement, where she insists she can still see the stain of Jane's blood whenever she walks past. No one else sees it._)**

* * *

The cleanup guys had taken care of the scene the same day; they couldn't leave garish blood stains right out in the open for people to gawk at.

Besides that, it was over two years ago now, and any possible traces of the stain had long since been worn away by a million footsteps.

But Maura could still see it. Not those fresh, vast, dark puddles, of course - although she could picture that all too easily, if she closed her eyes. What she saw now was only the hint at what was once there, faint enough that no one who didn't witness the incident would ever even notice it.

Frost stared down at the sidewalk. He was all too familiar with the scene Maura was trying to forget.

But the pavement had no traces of blood. Just like it hadn't last time he found her out here.

"Doc, we can have somebody else do that," he says uncomfortably.

"I'll do a more thorough job of it than anyone we could assign."

"Well, it looks kind of funny to have the Commonwealth ME out here on her hands and knees scrubbing the sidewalk, don't you think?"

"I doubt the majority of passers-by would be able to recognize their Commonwealth ME on sight," she smiled, leaning farther over to scrub. "Anyway, blood is one of the most difficult stains to remove from any surface… I know the right solution that will do the trick."

Knowing she wouldn't stop before she believed the job was done, Frost politely excused himself and went back inside the building.

Jane found him hear the elevator. "Hey, there you are. You seen Maura? I wanted you both to see somethin' upstairs."

"Uh." He paused. He wasn't sure why he felt the need to keep it from Jane, but there would be no sense in going so far as to lie. "Yeah, I just saw her outside." He pointed a thumb behind him.

"Thanks."

He sidestepped in front of her.

"I- you know what, I gotta get something from my car anyway. Let me just tell her you're looking for her," he offered.

"Nah, that's okay." She kept walking.

"Alright. I'll be upstairs."

"I thought you needed something from your car?"

"It... I can.. later," he answered, stepping into the elevator and repeatedly jabbing the DOOR CLOSE button.

Outside, Jane's eye was immediately drawn to the person kneeling over that particular spot, which she felt a weird sense of ownership over. It was a second later before she realized it was Maura, and walked up carefully, not wanting to startle her.

Maura looked up at the sound of booted footsteps that stopped close.

"Hi..."

"Hi!" the doctor answered, returning her attention to the pavement.

"Um.. you tryin' to pick up some extra hours, or...?"

Jane already knew the only thing Maura could be doing here. But the spot was clean. Well, not _clean_; it was a sidewalk, there were scrapes and smears and gunk and black spots of chewing gum. But her blood was long gone. She would know - she looked for it every time she passed.

Maura chuckled. "I just wanted to get rid of the last of these stains.. it's rather unsightly, if anyone were to recognize what they are."

She wasn't sure what to make of Maura's mood. If she were upset or crying, that would make sense. Phony cheerfulness, she would understand. But Maura just seemed her normal, upbeat self.

This memory must bother her a lot more than she let on. Jane wouldn't begin to mention the implications; surely Maura knew a thousand times more psychological mumbo jumbo than she did anyway.

With a silent sigh, Jane hitched her pants to squat down next to Maura.

"It looks good to me," she said, her tone somewhere between condescension and actual gentleness. "I think you got it."

"It may be a _slight_ improvement…" Maura moved her head back, tilting to look from another angle. "But I thought that last time, so I'll have to see when it dries."

The detective frowned slightly at the slip of new information, but added nothing.

Maura began to pour a bottle of clear liquid over the already wet spot.

"Ugh," Jane stumbled to her feet, escaping the blast of foul odor. "What is that? Is that vinegar?"

"To neutralize the trisodium orphophosphate."

"Of course, how could I have forgotten." Jane offered to help her up once she appeared to be done.

"Careful!" Maura warned with a smile, holding up her gloves, and getting up on her own. "It's corrosive."

"Oh…kay."

Jane watched Maura gather her cleaning supplies into her bag and follow her back into the building, taking a quick backward glance at the pavement.

She wasn't sure whether to believe Maura really might have some amazing super-doctor-cleanfreak microscopic vision, or if it was just in her head. Honestly, neither was Maura.

Either way, it helped when, in the privacy of the elevator, Jane tugged her close for a kiss on her head and murmured, "It's okay if it_ is_ still there, cause so am I."


	3. I Didn't Hear Anything

**I Didn't Hear Anything**

**Smut alert! This chapter is rated M.**

_headcanon: Just friends, Jane and Maura often shoot the breeze on the phone in bed at night until they get sleepy. One night, long after they both assume the other has hung up, Jane starts to hear funny noises… and her name_

* * *

"I'm gonna be a zombie tomorrow if I don't try to get some sleep," Jane murmurs in the general direction of her cell phone, which she put on speaker and let fall into the sheets next to her over an hour and a half ago.

"Yeah..." Maura must be practically asleep too, if she hasn't started to list all the impossibilities preventing Jane from literally awaking as a reanimated corpse.

"Okay. Night."

"Goodnight, Jane. Pleasant dreams."

"Yeah, you too."

She lets Maura end the call, not wanting to blind herself with the phone screen now that she's finally half asleep.

Pleasant dreams are not actually very likely. Her dreams are a rigged roulette wheel of dead bodies, scalpels, family crises, work stress, and occasionally weird stuff involving her best friend that she doesn't care to discuss even with herself.

She's just frustrated. Still, why does it have to be that? Why can't she just be chased by a giant crab wearing a top-hat or.. something... _normal_-weird?

It doesn't mean anything. It's just that Maura is the person she sees most often. That must be it.

Whatever.

Maybe she'll get lucky and just have the one about coming to work in her underwear.

_No not Maura in her underwear dammit_

Scowling, she grabs the sheets and rolls over.

Some tiny noise makes her head snap up, and her hand instinctively reaches to the nightstand for her gun. Her eyes dart from her darkened doorway to all corners of the room, detecting no knife-wielding maniacs, ghosts, witches, or anything out of the ordinary, and after a few hyper-alert moments, she relaxes again.

She really should chill out. _Every_ noise makes her reach for her gun. Five, ten, twenty times per night. Building creakings. That clunky sound the refrigerator makes. Car doors shutting outside. Dog farts from the foot of the bed. But the first time she doesn't, could be the first time there really is something.

_"Oh."_

_No, okay, that was definitely a voice._

Her fingers grip her gun for the second time, and then there's silence.

Maybe her neighbor next door i-

_"Oh..."_

No, that was in this room.

_What the hell is that? Sounds almost..._

_Oh crap, is Maura somehow still on the phone?_

Frantically, she searches in the sheets next to her for the phone.

_Is that her? Is she hurt? Is she having a nightmare?_

She's about to say her name, ask if she's okay-

"_Yes..._"

Jane flinches so hard she almost flings the phone across the room.

_What_

_That's not.._

She holds it away from herself like a bomb, heart pounding in her silent bedroom. And then sets it down on the sheet, well away from herself.

It's quiet long enough for Jane's blood pressure to start to normalize.

_Maybe you imagined it?_

It stays silent for a few minutes.

"_Mmh... yes..._"

Nope. Those are moans. Like something-you're-not-ever-supposed-to-hear-your-fr iend-do, _moans_.

_No. No no Maura, you're ... no, and I can still hear..._

_Oh. Crap. Crap. Oh, crapping mother of crap._

Her eyes are wide and her heart is pounding. Frozen. Worst of all, she is a bizarre sort of.. turned on.

_What the hell, Jane?_

_No, no, no, no, I'm not supposed to hear this._

_MAURA HANG UP YOUR PHONE MAURA ISLES YOU CAN HEAR MY THOUGHTS REMEMBER YOUR PHONE MAURA_

_"Please, yes..."_

She wonders if it's possible to blush hard enough that your entire head just explodes right off your body.

_I should hang up. I really really really should hang up._

_No, no, you can't touch any buttons. It makes a sound on the other end. _

_Oh, crap. __Hang up. Hang up anyway, this is so creepy. This is bad._

_No, you can't. __She'll hear it. __She'll know you've been listening this long._

Her hand had already seemed to slip beneath the covers on its own.

_What the h- no, ew, don't do that. _

_DO NOT do that._

"_Ohh, yess_.."

Her fingers barely even graze the fabric and it's the most addictive, horribly delicious feeling.

_Congratulations, Jane, you are officially fucking creepy_

Miserable and throbbingly, heart-poundingly horny, Jane squeezes her eyes shut in a frown.

_This is not okay_

The small lump under the comforter moves silently but intently.

_But it feels so good.._

_Say something else Maura_

_Let me hear you_

There's the rare sound, too quiet to distinguish - perhaps Maura's sheet moving, perhaps just static on the line - but even the silence is still the hottest thing she's ever heard in her life. Because it's Maura's silence.

_"Jane..."_

Her eyes snap open. Hand freezes in place

_WHAT_

_Seriously, wait, what_

_No you heard that wrong_

_Did she just_

_"Mmh..."_

Deep sighs crackle through the phone.

Jane's hand moves in tiny, furious circles over the moist spot her pajama pants, racing to finish before Maura does. If she loses, she'll be left in silence.

_"OhJane, oh...yes..."_

_Shit_

Her hips strain forward.

_I'm having a heart attack_

_This is what a heart attack feels like_

_This is it_

_They're gonna find you dead like this, g__ood job_

She claps a hand over her mouth, even though she's habitually silent anyway. No chances.

_"Janepleaseyes..."_

Her legs stiffen. Breath held, teeth gritted, eyes trying to roll back in her head, she bucks so violently she's sure Maura is going to hear. She literally cannot control her body.

She has never, ever come this hard before. Her entire body seems to clench so hard it almost hurts. She sees stars. Her hips seem to keep jerking forever, with each little aftershock threatening to give her away.

_I think I pulled something_

Jane finally goes limp, sinking into her pillow, sweaty, heart thudding, taking the last of her strength to silently let out the burning air that threatens to explode her lungs.

Immediately, the release and satisfaction is gone, replaced by guilt that will only grow by the second.

_What the hell was that_

There's only silence now. Maura is probably going to sleep. If she wasn't already sleeping.

_You're disgusting_

_Did you really just do that_

_No but seriously, do you realize how creepy that was_

"Oh my God," says Maura's normal voice. Jane hits a new record for how wide her eyes can open. "Is this still... Jane?"

_NO. Shit. She heard. She heard. Nope._

_Nononononoope. Nope. Nope. You were asleep. You fell asleep. You didn't hear anything. She didn't hear anything. You were asleep. You were asleep. You are asleep._

"If you can... if you heard any... I... I guess there's nothing I can say, but that I'm so... _so_ sorry..."

She wants to tell her not to be sorry. But she can't. Maura can't know. Ever.

She stays silent.

The display lights up briefly as Maura actually does hang up. The call length flashes a few times before the screen goes dark again.

_That was messed up. Like, actually, certifiably not-okay, you-probably-need-therapy messed up._

_Friends don't do that._

_You know you have to SEE her tomorrow, right? And talk to her? And work with her?_

_Every day._

_Knowing what you did._

_Knowing what she did._

_Knowing she must think the same things about you._

_Knowing she wasn't dreaming._

_Knowing you're still too much of a coward to say anything. Even now. Especially now._

_Knowing you're going to think of that every night from now on._

_And knowing you're still just going to keep playing dumb, forever._

Jane stares at the ceiling, absolutely certain that she won't even blink until her alarm clock goes off.


	4. Last Drops

"Jane?"

"Yeah?" She answers through a mouthful of Cocoa Krispies, not looking up from the small pile of mail on her kitchen counter. _Ad, ad, bill, credit card scam, bill..._

"May I ask why you have this?"

Now she does look up, her mind spinning through a rolodex of things Maura could be talking about, and panicking as she settles on a winner. Her eyes snap shut.

_Shit._

She'd used it last night. She doesn't have a specific memory of putting it back.

"Have what," she answers halfheartedly. Sure enough, Maura comes around the corner holding that little bottle. "Oh. It was in my medicine cabinet," Jane shrugs. It's the truth. So far.

"How did it get there?" Her voice isn't accusatory, just puzzled. Like she saw a magic trick and she's searching for the hidden strings.

"I probably put it there and forgot, you must have left it here one night..." she tries.

It's not an outlandish attempt. Maura _does_ usually carry a bottle of her perfume in her purse, in case she needs to go someplace without smelling like a rotting corpse. But her memory is too good to let it slide past.

"I don't remember ever taking it out of my purse when I've been at your... Jane, is this the one you said you broke?"

_Shit._

And now they're both just looking at each other, both recalling the day that she'd searched her bathroom for this lost bottle for 10 minutes. It certainly wasn't a matter of dire need, or even lost value - just of curiosity, because objects do not simply disappear. After standing there, guiltily chewing on the inside of her cheek and trying to carry on the conversation as normal, Jane had finally acted as if she'd just realized what was happening, and volunteered a confession that she had accidentally broken the bottle and thrown it away.

"I..." _You can't deny it. You can't tell her the truth either, but that much of a lie would just be insulting._ "Yeah... it is."

"I _thought_ that was odd... because if the bottle had broken I would have expected to smell the fragrance very strongly afterwards, and I never did..."

"Uh-huh. I was.. gonna... get you a bottle and I needed to see what kind it was..." It just falls out of Jane's mouth before she can approve it. Four seconds too late, she realizes that Maura's birthday has come and gone since that time, and perfume had not been among her gifts.

Maura's face says that she has realized the same thing, and is debating whether it's appropriate to point it out. Besides, she _knows_ that Jane knows she already has more bottles on hand. Her bathroom is stocked with at least three of everything.

Now Jane is a bug in the shadow of a giant Jimmy Choo heel, hoping for mercy.

"Jane, it..." she smiles, unsure. "It's not that I'm trying to put you on the spot, it's just... extremely apparent that you aren't telling the truth and I'm_ so_ curious why."

"I..." she sighs. She hates to admit the truth. But Maura has her under a microscope now, and there's no other way out. _This is why she's so good at her job._ "I was in your bathroom and I saw it on the counter... it was almost empty, I know you have more, and figured you were almost gonna toss it anyway and you wouldn't miss the last few drops much..."

Maura blinks, twin hazel lenses flipping to a higher magnification. Jane wonders how she can sometimes seem so oblivious and sometimes look right through her. "Well... you're welcome to it, I just don't understand why you wanted it..?"

"Sometimes..." Jane sighs, finding her fingers already rubbing at her scars. She feels herself blushing. "You know I have nightmares, once in a while."

Maura nods slowly.

"I had one a night or two after one of the times you slept over. When I woke up I could still kinda smell your perfume, and it made me feel a little better.. like.. not alone. So I thought if I could have a little on hand, to use if I was having a really bad night... to feel like somebody's there with me..." _Like you're there with me. _"It helps, somehow. I dunno."

One spritz on the pillow keeps the monsters away for a night. One drop makes a spritz. Only a few drops left in the bottle. So few that she has to tilt it carefully for the little tube to reach. She's been rationing the drops, needing to make them count, like the last bullets left in her gun when she's alone, terrified, and outnumbered.

"I'm sorry I lied. There's just no way to explain that that doesn't sound weird," she swallows. "As you can see."

And then Maura is squeezing her.

"Stop," she groans, but prays for her not to.

"It's not weird. Jane, I'll give you a _case_ of it, if it helps you not to feel alone. But if you'd prefer to _actually_ not be alone, you can call me. I'll come over, or you can come over. Any night, any hour."

Jane isn't sure how to answer. She isn't sure how she feels about Maura anymore, except that she likes her a lot. Loves her a lot. What kind of love she isn't always sure, but regardless, she wants Maura close to her always, in the most basic way. It just feels good to be close to someone she cares about. There's nothing weird about that.

_If it's so not weird, why do you have to keep telling yourself that?_

"I could end up calling you a lot of nights," Jane says. She makes sure her tone is a joking warning, because otherwise it could easily sound like a flirtation.

"I'm willing to come over a lot of nights." She wonders if Maura toned her response exactly the same way, or if that's just wishful thinking.

_And what if I ended up calling you every single night for the rest of my life?_

"How about tonight, do you think it'll be bad?" she continues. "If I recall correctly, you tend to report experiencing nightmares for several consecutive days or even weeks when something is bothering you. Is something bothering you?"

"Nothing more than the usual stuff. Sometimes there's just a straggler for no reason. Can't always tell."

"Well, would you like some company, just in case?"

Jane's mouth hangs slightly open before her answer comes out, distracted by Maura gently brushing a lock of hair out of her face. She tries not to close her eyes like she's focusing every fiber of her being on the sensation.

"Mm-kay," she murmurs. It doesn't have to be a bad night for her to want Maura close to her. "I'm...to go.. put my pajamas on, then," Jane says, rising and drifting towards her bedroom. She can still feel where Maura's fingertip skimmed her forehead.

Maura stays behind, smiling curiously, waiting to see how long it will take for Jane to realize it's 2:00 in the afternoon.


	5. Rizzoli

"ri-ZZOOOO-liiii!"

Jane's ears perk up, and she mutes the TV.

"Rizzoli! Come on!"

It sounds like a kid's voice.

Jane peeks out her window to the street below her apartment, but sees nothing going on. Grabbing her gun just in case, she hurries out the door.

"Don't you hear meeeee?"

Downstairs, she finds another repetition of her name loudly issuing from the mouth of a little girl, maybe 6 or 7, who is standing in the building's open doorway, looking outside. Despite what Jane instinctively expects, there is no apparent disaster, struggle, or crime in progress.

"Hey," Jane tries, not knowing what to say. "Is.. everything okay?"

The girl turns and looks at her, looking vaguely annoyed, saying nothing.

"Were you calling me?" Jane asks. It feels pretty clear that she wasn't, although Jane can find no other explanation.

"No? Who're you?"

"I'm Jane Ri-"

"Are you a robber?"

"What? No, I'm not a rob-"

"You have a gun."

"I'm a detective. Police," she simplifies.

"Nuh-uh."

"Yuh-huh," Jane smiles, trying to get on the kid's level, but she doesn't soften.

"You're a girl. And you're not dressed up like a police," she says skeptically.

"Girls can be police, just like boys. And I'm not in uniform because I'm not on duty right now, I'm just at home. I live upstairs in this build-"

"Is there a bad guy?"

"No, I just heard you shouting 'Rizzoli', so I came to see if everything was okay...?"

"She's okay. Matt has her," she points outside.

Jane pauses, thoroughly confused. A slightly older boy comes in the doorway, panting slightly, with a black lab puppy in his arms.

"_Ooh,"_ she says says as a theory finally clicks. "Your _puppy's_ named Rizzoli?"

"Uh-huh."

"Oh. Okay. Well, my name's Jane Rizzoli, so I thought you were calling me," she explains, more for the benefit of the boy, who thankfully seems a little friendlier.

"Huh, weird," he answers, setting the puppy down. She trots over to Jane.

"Hiya, puppy," she grins, squatting down to give her a scratch behind the ear. She flops over on her side, chewing on Jane's finger. "How'd you happen to think of the name Rizzoli?" she asks curiously, considering the kids apparently had no idea of her existence until this moment.

"A lady told us it," he answers.

"Hm." She gives her little namesake one more rub on the tummy before getting back to her feet.

* * *

Maura is exactly one bite into the lunch she's brought to Jane's apartment, when_ "Rizzzzzooooooolliii!"_ can be heard shrieking from downstairs. She seems to shrink down in her chair slightly.

Her eyes meet Jane's, finding an already unamused look leveled at her.

"So is there anything you might wanna tell me," Jane asks, "about why that's the 20th time I've heard that today?"

Maura gulps.

"It's.. a good name..." she answers meekly.

"For a _dog_. Now I have a dog name. Thank you."

"I'm sorry," Maura says, trying very hard not to giggle but failing.

"No. You're not laughing. You don't get to laugh. You're in trouble."

"They said she was the only girl in a litter of three, and I couldn't help but think.."

"Yeah, okay."

"..since she's _clearly_ the pick of the litter-"

"Stop-"

"They were such sweet children, I had no idea they were going to take my suggestion seriously."

"_Sweet?_ The girl could come down to work in the interrogation room," Jane grumbles, stabbing another bite of food. "Will you go downstairs and tell your sweet little friends to name their dog something else, then?"

"Jane, you know that's not a reasonable thing to ask."

"Oh, you really wanna talk about what is reasonable right now? Really?"

_"RI-ZO-LIIIIIII!"_

"What have you _done_," Jane drops her fork and groans into her hands. Maura can't help but laugh.


	6. Post-Its

Maura's eyes flicker open, scratchy and dry.

Slight dizziness. Cephalalgia. Little prickly feelings all over. It takes her a moment to determine the cause for her symptoms.

They'd celebrated finally wrapping up that seemingly interminable, impossible case.

It had not really been a drinking _contest_, per se. Jane and Frankie simply tend to get a little bit competitive, and somehow, Maura had gotten swept into it in some sort of effort to support her girlfriend. It really had only been a couple more drinks than usual, but she's feeling the effects.

Hazily, she remembers them all stumbling out of the Dirty Robber at closing time, and... was it Jane who kept making bird calls in the street while the whole city was trying to sleep? She remembers shushing _someone_. Why had they been talking about birds?

She supposes it's not important.

She puts a hand up to her throbbing temple and her fingers brush paper. It sticks and yanks a few strands of her hair slightly when she picks it up and holds it out at arms length, trying to blink her way to clarity. It's a yellow Post-It note.

I LOVE YOUR BIG GENUSY BRAIN HOW DOES IT FIT IN THERE

She squints in confusion at a messy version of Jane's block manuscript._  
_

Next to her, Jane is still solidly asleep almost face-down in last night's clothes, with one socked foot hanging off her edge of the bed.

She reaches for more of the prickly sensations on her cheek and on her ear, and finds more Post-Its.

BEST DIMPLES EVER NOT RIGT NOW THOUGH BUT I REMEMBER THEM WHY DO THEY HAVE TO GO AWAY

I TOLD YOU ALL MY FAVRITE PLACES ON YOU BUT YOU DIDN'T HER ME BEC. ASLEEP SO IM GOING TO LEAVE YOU A NOTE SO I REMEBER TO TELL YOU AGAIN OK

Maura giggles silently.

Another is right in the center of her -bare- chest. A glance down informs her that she is fully naked.

LITTLE TINY FRECKLES THERS A MILLION OF YOU AND POSTITS ARE WAY TOO BIG YOUL NEVER KNOW WHICH ONES IM TALKING TO?WHAT DO I DO? AHAHA POST TITS. I NEED TO BORROW 1 ONE OF YOUR SIENCE MICRO SCOPES. DO TEY MAKE LITTLE WEENSY MICRO POST ITS

Her breasts have been bestowed with another note apiece, placed upside-down, perhaps intentionally so that Maura can read them without removing them:

HI BOOB YOU'ARE VERY PERFECT IF THERE WAS A MUSEEUM FOR BOOBS YOU SHOUD BE IN IT. BUT BEHIND 1 OF THOSE VELVET ROPES SO PEOPLE CANT TOUCH YOU. EXCEPT ID STILL BE ALOWED TO.

YOU RA LITTLE SMALLER I THINK BUT THAT DOESNT MATTER I DONT LOVE YOU ANY LESS + I AM ALWAyS ROOTING FOR YOu

Covering her mouth, Maura giggles as quietly as she can.

From right between her breasts, she pulls off two notes stuck together into one long one: DEAR MAURAS HEART (I CANT PUT THIS ON YOUR ACTUAL HART AND IT WOULD PROBABLY BE BADF OR YOU ANYWAY IF I COULD SO KEEP IT HERE))  
I CANT SEE YOU AND I CANT KISS YOU BUT YOURE STILL MY FAVORITE THING  
mY HEART LOVES YOU  
MAYBE ITS ONLY A LITTLE TINY WIERD HEART LIKE THE GRINCH AND NOT NICE LIKE YOURS BUT ITS ALL I HAVE AND IT LOVES yOU

This is appended with a simple and fairly lopsided drawing of a heart, (THATS NOT WHAT A REAL HEART LOOKS LIKE BUT YOU KNOW WHAT I MEAN)

Jane is too guarded to say things like this out loud, save for exceptionally rare circumstances, and a handwritten note is more valuable to Maura than anything else she owns.

"My heart loves you too, Jane," she smiles, misty and giggling, reaching over to pet her girlfriend's hair.

_"Bllluggggh._" A face, obscured by a tangled mess of dark curls, raises slowly from its pillow. "Maur, turn'a light off."

"It's morning, Jane."

The brunette sweeps her hair out of her face and takes a minute to open slightly bloodshot eyes, and waits another moment for them to focus. A frown settles over her face, taking in the sight of Maura's body still sporting several Post-It notes.

"Did an office supply store explode?" she rasps.

"Not to my knowledge," Maura answers. "I just woke up like this."

"Did... _I_ write these?"

"Well, I would certainly hope that someone _other_ than you did not spend the night in our bedroom, labeling their favorite features of my body," Maura says, as Jane pulls one of the little squares off from her hip.

THIS IS FOR YOUR BUTT BUT BUTT BUT BUT T YO'URE SLEEPING ON IT AND I CANT ROLL YOU OVER SO PLESE TELL YOUR BUTT I SAiD HI

"What.. the _hell_."

Jane glances at the small pile of notes next to Maura on the bed, deducing that those are the ones she has already read and removed.

"Do I owe you any apologies so far, or.."

"No," Maura laughs. "But I haven't gotten below the waist yet."

"Oh..." Jane looks lower at the placement of some of the remaining notes, blushing. "You know what, I think I better check the rest before you read 'em."

"Fair enough, but you won't stop me from keeping them all forever."

Maura picks up a wrinkled note from the pillow next to her, which had evidently fallen off during the night.

HOW ARE YOUR LIPS SO PERFECT. I WANT TO KISS THEM LIKE SLEEPING BEAUTY EXEPT DO YOU HAVE TO BE IN A MAGIC COMA? HOW DOES THAT WORK I HAVENT SEEN THAT MOVIE IN FOREVER  
UPDATE I ASKED YOU HOW TO TELL IF SOMEONES IN A COMA AND YOU SAID YOU WERE'NT AND GO TO SLEEP JANE  
I.O.U 1 HUGE KISS I HOPE YOU WAKE UP SOON FROM YOUR NOT COMA

"I'd like to redeem this one now," Maura giggles.


End file.
